But I Am Your Keeper
by Owl Satire
Summary: Songfic. Reisi reflects on his one-sided love for Mikoto, and how, now matter how hard he tried, he could not save Mikoto in the end. M Rating because someone complained.


**Pairing:** One-Sided Reisi x Mikoto  
**Theme:** Songfic.  
**Warning: SAD.**  
**Note:** Songfic based on 'Devil's Spoke' by Laura Marling.

* * *

"So, you, of all people- you're a king now." A pause and a chuckle, "Though, you always acted like one before."

The smirk that played on the disembodied voice was a dead giveaway to who was speaking. Reisi Munakata turned his head to look behind him. The red lion, Mikoto Suoh, stood there with hands lazily resting in his pockets and smoke drifting slowly from his cigarette. He tilted his head at Reisi, with a look on his face that was expectantly waiting an answer.

Reisi adjusted his glasses with one finger. "I suppose I am. I wouldn't know about acting like a king, though." A ghost of a smile played on his lips, "I would have never expected it. The Dresden Slate works in mysterious ways when it chooses its kings."

"The Blue Clan has been kingless for too long. Do you know who you are going to choose for your clan?" Mikoto would know about kinglessness, Reisi thought to himself. Everyone knew—everyone remembered the Kagutsu Crater. The Red Clan was four years with a king; the Blue Clan had been more than ten years without.

Useless chatter and broken small talk—that's all this conversation was. For once, Reisi didn't mind it. Mikoto Suoh had approached him on his own; a man, though often reckless and aloof from the law-governed world, that Reisi admired as a king.

"I think the first thing I'll do is bring SCEPTER 4 back together. I miss my colleagues. HOMRA better watch where they step. They won't be able to get away with wanton disregard for the law like they could before."

Mikoto smiled at Reisi's challenge. Reisi liked how he looked when he smiled.

It was lonely with this king. Reisi was the only one there who saw the other.

* * *

Avoiding work again (taking a quick break, he told himself), Reisi rested his head on the brick of the alleyway. He wasn't far from the bar where HOMRA had their 'base of operations'. Reisi didn't like going inside—rivalries wore thin on one's ability to act friendly to another—but sometimes, on a rare day, Reisi could catch Mikoto on his way to or from the bar.

It was so easy to be himself with Mikoto. As the whispers went, kings attracted other kings, after all. One who wore a similar coat of responsibility was easy to sympathize with. He might even catch Mikoto's eye someday and then they could be more than awkward rivals, strange acquaintances or fellow kings.

Reisi picked up his head, voices were approaching. Mikoto and his small gang of Reds walked by, chatting and laughing with each other. He didn't glance Reisi's way like he did when Reisi was here to see him. Reisi didn't catch his attention on this day. He didn't even acknowledge Reisi's presence—none of them did. Instead, Mikoto smiled, maybe even laughed, at the boy talking to him. Reisi watched in a blank-faced, stunned silence as they turned away into the next alleyway where the bar was located.

He recognized the boy—he wasn't new, but he wasn't a HOMRA fighter, either. Mikoto had mentioned him once—Tatara—someone who really admired Mikoto.

Something about seeing that particular brand of smile directed toward someone other than himself twisted a dagger in Reisi's ribcage. He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. Once the laughter had died away and the bell on the bar's door had ceased its jingle, Reisi pulled himself away from the alley wall (and tearing himself away from stupid- dare he say… jealous- thoughts as well), checked the time on the PDA on his wrist, and decided he'd hidden from his work long enough that day.

* * *

"-though it's not serious enough to call for your attention, I'm just making sure you are aware of the situation, as always."

Seri Awashima was painfully aware her king hadn't heard a word she was said. He rested his chin on his hands with his fingers interlocked, and gazed intently at the puzzle on his desk before him. Though he seemed he was focusing, he wasn't making any sign of it. He hadn't moved a piece in the entire time she'd stood there.

It was obvious something was bothering him. It was incredibly rare for the great Reisi Munakata to be out of focus and it was almost scary to Awashima. She didn't dare ask him what was bothering him.

"Sir?"

She raised her voice just enough to break his train of though.

"Sorry, I might need you to repeat yourself, Awashima." He said to her without missing a beat or making any indication of his earlier distraction.

"Sir, if something is bothering you, I will leave you be. It is not anything that requires your direct attention."

Was something bothering him? Reisi kneaded his temple tiredly.

"That will be all, Awashima. You may leave." His voice didn't falter, but his fraying emotions were almost visible on the surface.

Almost.

Reisi Munakata could never falter, it was the least he could do for his Clan.

* * *

"What can I do to help you, Suoh?"

Reisi's voice was almost a whisper, almost faltering—but it didn't.

Mikoto lay on the cell bed with his back turned to Reisi. Reisi knew he wasn't asleep, he knew that man heard every word he said.

Reisi could see he was falling apart without seeing his Sword of Damocles. His chest hurt simply looking at this proud lion who was crumbling away into nothing more than a wounded housecat.

Pieces were merely the small parts of a larger, grander, perfect puzzle.

A perfect man.

Reisi loved puzzles, they were his favorite hobby. Helping Mikoto was merely a puzzle. He had to tell himself this. It was the only hope he had to save this man that he would never dare to say he loved.

Mikoto loved Tatara. Reisi wouldn't delude himself. He'd deluded himself for too long. He'd pretended the touches and exchanged looks were those that friends shared. That veil was torn from his eyes.

If only a king could bring back the dead.

"Miko—Suoh, I want to know what you would have me do. You are falling to pieces." So was Reisi, seeing Mikoto like this—but he had to keep himself composed. It was the least he could do for his clan. That's what he always told himself.

He would rescue Mikoto Suoh, the Red King, the proud, fiery lion.

Reisi place a hand on Mikoto's shoulder. Mikoto continued to ignore him.

He knew Mikoto only thought of the Colorless King, the crazed, man who declared himself so. The one who'd shot Tatara in cold blood.

Reisi worked relentlessly to find the Colorless King under the guise that he was a threat to all. He would never admit, not even to Mikoto, that he did it to cool the fire of revenge that burned in Mikoto's belly. Reisi did it to complete the puzzle.

The prize would be the life of his love.

* * *

Mikoto was rough with him when they had sex.

Reisi could feel the bruises on his hips through his coat, his lips were sore, and it took every bit of composure he had to hide his limp around his clan members.

There was no love when Mikoto fucked him.

It was an emotional outlet for a broken man (it hurt Reisi to think Mikoto was broken). Reisi liked it when he was rough. He didn't like it for the pain the pain was his least favorite part; he liked it because he knew Mikoto saw him. When the Red King was rough with him, it told Reisi that Mikoto was there in the real world, seeing Reisi, knowing the Blue King was there, instead of thinking of those who are dead.

Reisi saw Mikoto, though. He'd always seen Mikoto. He let himself be treated this way for every drop of love he'd never shown to this man. He cried love for every time he'd refrained from leaving a whispered word of affection. When Mikoto was done and tired, he left the gentlest sighed word for every time he had hurt because of him.

Reisi continued to tell himself he could piece Mikoto back together. Like a complex puzzle. It wasn't his hobby anymore, it was his life.

But his grip was slipping. The pieces were being lost. There were gaps in the figure of that powerful, enigmatic king; missing shards of a once solid foundation that was crumbling beneath the iconic statue of a great king.

* * *

Mikoto continued to burn hotter and hotter. He was losing his mind. He turned himself over to SCEPTER 4 because he knew they would find the Colorless King faster than HOMRA could, even with Anna's help.

Mikoto knew Reisi would help him.

But even Mikoto Suoh doubted that Reisi Munakata had the ability to save him.

* * *

He felt his sword pierce through Mikoto's flesh. He heard the sickening noise his blade made.

He'd never been so unsettled by killing someone.

Mikoto had smiled at him as his Sword of Damocles dropped from the sky, threatening to kill him and Reisi in one fell swoop since there was no one left on the island.

That hurt him more than having to kill Mikoto.

It was the same smile Reisi had seen him give to Tatara so many years ago. The same affection. The same gutwrenching affection.

Mikoto leaned forward and hugged Reisi one last time. He was so of the vengeful brutality remained in his muscles.

"I'm sorry. In the end, Munakata, I really did… love… you…"

Mikoto's words died on his lips. He'd finally seen Reisi, and Reisi no longer had a reason to feel lonely around this king.

Reisi inhaled deeply, sucking every urge to lose himself in, and held Mikoto's body up as gently as possible as he drew his blade from his lover's body. He let him down gently, lying in the snow so serenely—as if he were only sleeping.

Reisi, with shaking hands, shook Mikoto's blood from his saber and sheathed it.

Then, he cried.

It wasn't any sort of gross sobbing. Reisi just stood, rooted in place by grief, for a long time and shook, suppressing sobs and letting the tears roll down his face. He didn't notice the snow. A blood rose bloomed in the snow around Mikoto's body, framing the once proud man.

Reisi cursed everything for this moment. He cursed himself, the Colorless King, and God above for causing this.

His fists clenched so tight that his nails dug red crescents in his palms, and he fell into a crouch and covered his face.

When he'd finally regained himself, Reisi stood, wordlessly, and brushed the snow from his body. He turned away from Mikoto's body without even a parting glance and said, "You never acted like a King. You were an offish lion. That's why I loved you—even until this bitter end."

His words choked in his throat.

He'd limped back to his clan in the end. They all cheered that their king was alive. Below them, HOMRA grieved and chanted in the name of theirs.

His wounds were tended. HOMRA continued to grieve over the loss of their kind (they stayed friends and clanmates even without a King to give them powers), Reisi grieved, too, but silently and only when his clan couldn't see him.

Through delicate prodding, Reisi learned where Mikoto had been laid to rest. Somehow, HOMRA had found a field, with real grass and trees and flowers, and had buried their king here; a field that could hear and smell the ocean and the sounds of birds and people.

He smiled at Mikoto's grave. A single flower grew on top of it.

Reisi leaned down and placed the single rose he carried near the white flower.


End file.
